Sirius didn’t know how to sit idle. He hadn’t been this laid down since he had almost died, and he hated the memory. To top it all off Zee wasn’t talking to him. It was the real icing on the cake of his frustrations. Dammit, that bullheaded woman was hard to understand sometimes. He loved her something fierce, and wish their ideals didn’t clash so. He missed her, and a part of him was frightened he had chased her away. It left him even more foul tempered than usual. “Get out of here “ he roared when Bast tried to bring him a flask of water. He used his head to toss at her departing form as she turned tail from the angry titan. He wasn’t allowed to move much, his leg was set and bound, and it made walking near impossible. He felt absolutely useless, and the territory felt too quiet without Zee nearby. godammit he thought angrily. He wanted to throw something else, and even looked about his den for ammunition “Marshal, bring me rocks!” he snapped. Maybe he could see if practice made perfect in knocking magpies from their nests. "Speech"

The retreating form of the leopard accompanied the childish bellows of the den ridden dire. Iolaire cast a sympathetic look towards the cat before heading towards the den. As she passed the vulture,  she gave a shake off her head.  The last thing Sirius needed was rocks. He could use the ones in his head if he wanted them that badly.

She leaned against one of the few palms that the oasis held and stared at the brute. She didn't say anything. He had to know that he was acting like some spoiled child. He was howling like a pup and treating his companions like garbage. Bast had only been trying to help. So she stood and she stare like some tiny, disappointed mother.

Marshal looked up at her approach, beady eyes on her as he failed to lift into the air after his masters target. Once she got closer, he did side step a little, putting Io between himself and Sirius. The intent was clear, ‘I'm not getting the rocks, but you're dealing with the fallout; Bast didn’t go far before she took a seat, also looking after Io. it seemed both the animals were looking to the Vipres to deal with the grumpy bastard. Sirius stood being ignored for only so long before he lifted his head and met Io’s disappointed stare, he growled, before leaning back with a frustrated sigh. “Get me out of this damn cast” he growled at her, but his tone was a little more meek than what he had used on his companions. “Or go join Zee in seclusion, have a little hate-Sirius-the-Bastard party” he grumbled unhappily, before knocking his head back to the ground with an angry sigh. He hated feeling like an invalid. He hated having distance between himself and Zee, hated that she might leave him for the way his moral compass pointed at a different north. "Speech"

Still she didn't speak. When he threw himself to the ground, however, she sat, curling her thick, snow dipped tail around one hip. He spoke, whining first about the cast and then he spoke of what was truly bothering him. The woman released a soft snort. As if she would leave him. He was no different than a pup right now in both condition and disposition.

Zee had gone due to anger at the warlords actions, this she knew. There was nothing wrong with it. The woman simply needed time to cool down. Once she did, she would return. Of that, Iolaire had no doubt. She agreed with the woman's anger, but wouldn't admit to it unless asked. Zee knew that Iolaire had a great dislike for slavery but she didn't think Sirius knew.

The woman waited for him to continue speaking. Maybe he would feel better after he vented a bit. She hoped so for the sake of the brutes companions.

Still she said nothing, just hovered there in his peripheral like some judgmental ghost. Didn’t she have anything better to do then to watch over him with those all too seeing eyes of hers? He huffed again, sighed, and dragged himself into a sit up position, his lame leg dragging forward in its cast. He scowled at it, and hoped Io wouldn’t see the places where he had chewed at in his frustration to get it off, and to get at the itchy spots of skin. Dammit why was she so silent? It was driving him crazy. ”What??” he grumbled, looking at her again. Looking at her, looking at his cast, looking at her. A slow, sly grin crawled up his muzzle. If he was going to have a rotten, boring time, then he might as well make something of it. He wondered at which point she clicked, and what the smaller wolf would do to stop him? he was gleeful at the idea of finding out, as he buried his head downwards and started to tear at the cast in an attempt to pull it off. "Speech"

"And you think you can lead a pack." The woman's words were icy and her gaze was even more so. "A good leader wouldn't wallow in pity. A good leader would do everything in his power to return to full strength so that he might protect his lands and his people." She stood, hackles raised. The thick grey and white mane at the back of her neck bristled and stood on end. Her nose wobbled and lips peeled back to expose pristine white teeth. No doubt she didn't look threatening at all, but god dammit, she was livid.

"Instead, you're in here squalling like a pup. You mistreat those who's only crime is to care about your well being. You should be ashamed to call yourself a warlord. Or any kind of Lord for that matter." Still bristled, Iolaire paced back and forth in front of him. "Did you know that the supplies for the Empire are dwindling? Deathbelle fears starvation by the time we're able to go home." Again those icy pools flashed at him. "You could be done healing in time to hunt, refill our stores and make a difference. Instead you're in here throwing yourself a pity party." She stopped and stared hard. "Did you know that I've been hunting nice and rabbits to give to Deathbelle just to make sure that her children are fed?" Couldn't he see how utterly stupid he was being?

With a shake of her head and a low growl of disgust, the diminutive fae turned and began to stalk away.

Well, that wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he thought it would be. She didn’t try to stop him at all, instead she threw words at him, calling him childish, a waste of space. He sighed deeply, looking to the departing woman, and back to his stupid leg. With a frustrated sigh, he hauled himself to his feet, and hobbled after the woman. “Alright, alright” he grumbled, “You win” “I’ve never been incapacitated like this before, except for once, and I wasn’t exactly lucid for it.” he grumbled. Managing, if only just, to keep from crying out as his foot shifted beneath him with each step as he limped after her. Damn, he really hated being incapacitated like this. “I’ve had Bast and Marshal both hunting in my absence, and no, Deathbelle hasn’t told me things were that dire.” he managed to catch up to her, breathing hard from the effort, a little white in the face. “If she had, do you think I would be sitting here, twiddling my thumbs, and wasting time?” he said, eyes a little flinty, his tone was shifting from apologetic to angry, and back again, as through the man couldn’t settle on any one emotion. His sides heaved with breath, and he started to get a little light headed as the pain hit him in continuous waves. “I’ve never shirked my duties to Deathbelle before. I don’t know why she didn’t tell, so stop growling at me and help me fucking hunt.” "Speech"

He was getting angry. Good. It was better than his whining. He limped after her and she stopped. She'd yelled at him about not legging himself heal, so she wouldn't let him keep walking. He made excuses for his behavior and Io didn't want to hear it. There was no excuse for acting like a child.

He asked if she thought he'd be wasting time if he new and the woman scoffed. "I didn't think you would, but here we are." Her anger was beginning to ebb simply because of the pain and fatigue in his features. He was overdoing it. Over exerting himself. "Sit Down, " She told him.

He growled and grumbled and asked her to help him hunt. Iolaire scoffed, skirting in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" He was beginning to shake from the pain. He could very well lose consciousness. "Sit. Down." The tiny woman said in a clipped yet forceful manner. "You aren't doing anything except staying put and healing." She had other ideas.

"I'm heading out. I'm going to meet with other packs and trade my wares and services for supplies." She didn't know how she was going to get the suppies back to base, but she would figure it out. "I'll be making diplomatic relations in the process." Two birds... one Io.

A bit of sympathy seeped into her gaze. "I know you hate it, but the best thing that you can do for everyone is rest. If you stay off of your leg and follow the instructions that Deathbelle and I gave you, you'll be healed before you know it."

Sirius sat. there was a limit you could push your healer, and he knew he had reached it. He might be a bastard, but he wasn’t always an idiot. He glared at her, sweat trickling down between his muzzle as he fought the pain. He hated his injury so much in that moment, hated it perhaps more then he had hated almost anything else. The feeling of weakness was almost unbearable to the infallible giant.

“If you think i’m going to let you go out there on your own” he said quietly. “You don’t know me very well at all.” what was she planning to do, go out in the name of Ashen, trade for supplies? He had already made enemies. “What do you have to offer that they would want? No, better to come at them from a vantage of strength. The wolves in this land have little reason to love us, nor us them, and everyone is short with the volcano. I’ve been building a cache of emergency supplies in the Sea’s plains, take everything from there, and i’ll rebuilt it after I'm healed. In the meantime, I'll send Bast and Marshal out hunting every spare moment they have.”

His second front leg gave out, just a twitch, just for a moment, and slipped forward before he locked it under him with a soft growl, shoving himself back up to full height. He sweat pooled around his face, and he ignored it, locking his limbs to hide their trembling.

Sirius sat. there was a limit you could push your healer, and he knew he had reached it. He might be a bastard, but he wasn’t always an idiot. He glared at her, sweat trickling down between his muzzle as he fought the pain. He hated his injury so much in that moment, hated it perhaps more then he had hated almost anything else. The feeling of weakness was almost unbearable to the infallible giant.

“If you think i’m going to let you go out there on your own” he said quietly. “You don’t know me very well at all.” what was she planning to do, go out in the name of Ashen, trade for supplies? He had already made enemies. “What do you have to offer that they would want? No, better to come at them from a vantage of strength. The wolves in this land have little reason to love us, nor us them, and everyone is short with the volcano. I’ve been building a cache of emergency supplies in the Sea’s plains, take everything from there, and i’ll rebuilt it after I'm healed. In the meantime, I'll send Bast and Marshal out hunting every spare moment they have.”

His second front leg gave out, just a twitch, just for a moment, and slipped forward before he locked it under him with a soft growl, shoving himself back up to full height. He sweat pooled around his face, and he ignored it, locking his limbs to hide their trembling.

She wanted to say something along the lines of, 'Do you think you can stop me on three legs?' but held her tongue. They were making progress here. He was being less sulking. Less childlike. His gruff tones were an indication that he was thinking again. She tilted her head though when he began speaking of positions of strength and other things. "You don't know a thing about diplomacy, do you?"

Sirius confessed to having an emergency store of goods and Iolaire nodded. "It's a start." He was trying to hard to hold himself tall, but the physical exertion was too much for him. He stumbled and tried to right himself and the small woman growled. "Enough, Sirius. SIT. DOWN!" Moving forward, she gave his chest a push. "You're doing more harm than good. Every ounce of strength that you waste is a second longer that it will take you to heal." She stared hard at him. "The faster you heal, the faster we can set things right for everyone." Couldn't he understand that everyone needed him to be whole? "Your only job right now is to rest and to heal. I'm taking care of things."

"Listen to me, Big Guy," she used her term of endearment for him, a bit of softness seeping into her steely gaze. "I'm doing things that will strengthen the Ashen. Doing my part. Doing what I know I'm good at." She would form diplomatic ties with whomever she could manage. Others who were less susceptible, well... at least she would know where they stood. "You need to do your part. Heal. Get back on your feet and be the leader that I know you want to be. That I know you can be."

The weakness only made him madder, stirring the emotions inside of him, with a pinch of tension and a whole dash of fear for Zee. It was just about enough to make an explosion, and the tyrant was a ticking time bomb. Maybe it made him a little nastier then usual, but the idea of her running off to ask for aid from other packs did not sit well in the Tyrant. "No. Diplomacy is something well have to work on, I get that. But you will NOT be going to another pack in my name and asking for aid, am I understood?" He sat, not because of her command so much as because he realised his paws wouldnt hold him for long.

He had an inkling he had pulled his stitches, and could feel the stickiness in his cast from the wound where the bone had originally broken the skin. Setting it had been a bastard of a time he would rather not relive. He took an angry, shaky breath and glared down at the smaller wolf. "If there is an issue, it comes to me. Having problem with supplies? Fine, then bast marshal and zee can work together and build up our stocks. They each have their own strengths and can work well together. Need healing supplies? Take out Deathbelles other healer, Riva, and a warrior and gather them. Go to Auster, the lands are richer there." He said, his tone a constant rumble. "Our first answer isnt to go squealing to other packs crying out our weakness. So long as your a member of Ashen Armada, you will not share mine or my packs weakness to other packs, am I understood?" It was hard to look stern when you were as white as a sheet, but he managed it. This was a stubbornness none had managed to shake him of. He did not tell his weakness to others. He had no doubt wolves like the Winterfell bastards would come after them if they knew they where weak. No doubt so would the Risen Empire who had a bone to pick with them. Hadn't their alpha died when Archon had?

Sirius went on with his schpeel and Iolaire honestly couldn't believe it. His years serving the Empress must have been all fun and games. He didn't understand pack politics in the slightest. Iolaire's haunches folded and she brought one paw up to knead the area between her brows. He was like dealing with a child sometimes. "You think I'm going to broadcast weakness? Never once would I ask for help. Never once would any even have an inkling of weakness. I would come out of the situation with them owing us favors." It was good to see that he thought she was an incapable idiot. That was a point against him. Frankly, the lack of trust was rather hurtful. But what could she expect? They barely knew one another.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, she spoke again. "Go rest your leg." She could go above his head. She could run her idea by Deathbelle. Ah, but she wouldn't. That would bring and irreparable chasm between them. Maybe he just needed time to think it over and realize how pig-headed he was being. In the end, just one alliance might save them all from starvation and death.

The grumpy bastard stared at Io, seated as he was, he was still taller than the little wolf. He did not like her tone, her presumptive air. It was like, no matter what he said, she believed herself to be right and him wrong. He regretted letting her see his despair-riddled tantrum. Perhaps this wrong foot was much the cause of this, but he looked to the wolf he considered sister with disappointment. “You are still very new to us, and yet you wish to speak with the voice of the entire Armada, of course I approach the idea with hesitation. I am in a weakened state, especially vulnerable at this moment. If you tread just one foot wrong, you could bring down what I have carefully cultivated.” he said dryly. His face was still ashen, but there was a flintiness to it, and a mask. He had let her see her emotions, his rage, his despair, his unhappiness, and she had judged him for it. Now she would see the mask of an Alpha, and the stern words of her commander. "Speech"

"Whatever my alpha commands." She was done arguing with him. If he couldn't have a little faith in her abilities, then she wouldn't waste those abilities on him. When they were cold and destitute, on the brink of starvation, it wouldn't be her fault. Her gaze had gone cold. She truly was finished with the conversation. "Rest your leg or you may not regain full use of it." Sliding her muzzle into her pack, she rummaged around the herbs. Taking out some white willow bark, she placed it before him. It would help with the pain. He needed to stay off of his leg and he needed sleep. Sleep, he would have to find on his own.

"I have a lot to do. If you need me, Marshal or Bast can find me." Turning, she padded away. There was hunting to be done. Herbs to be collected. Borders to be marked. She had been extremely busy lately and it was beginning to wear upon her nerves. Constant activity coupled with her neverending insomnia... and she was just as irritable and volatile as Sirius had just been. Perhaps they could speak in a more civil manner later. For now, nothing would be accomplished. Not with both of them in the foul moods that they were in.

Turning around a palm, she was gone from view. As she walked, she realized that her heart hurt. She didn't like arguing with Sirius and didn't understand how he wouldn't see reason. Never would she place the pack in danger. It was her duty and desire to lift the pack above all others. Meeting with diplomats from the other packs was the way to do that. Meet. Talk. Offer her services. Win favors. It wasn't difficult to understand, and yet he hadn't even tried. His lack of faith honestly hurt. Yes, she was knew, but he should have been able to see. With a sniff and a shake of her head, Iolaire went back to hunting.

She did not see his view as reasonable, he could tell that immediately. She was too caught up seeing everything as dire, when Sirius knew they could still get by just fine with what they had. He had been making preparations for the Armada, and Deathbelle had been keeping her own woes from him, but he knew it wouldn’t take long to gather up supplies. What they needed to do was organise the packs, his and Deathbelles, and have hunting parties sent out to Auster, which was still largely unaffected by the volcano. The healers could start an herb garden in the Oasis, where there was still access to water and greenery, and no ash. They could relocate much of the herbs later when they moved to their chosen lands. He could pull the damn sled himself. Instead, Lo just wanted to see brim-fire and ash, and hated him for holding her back. He wasn’t even opposed to her seeking out alliances with other packs, so long as she did it right and promised them little. Coming here and telling him the pack was in dire need and the only way to deal with it was to get supplies from other packs? Of course he was going to get his back up. She knew he wasn’t one to ask for help. He shook his head in frustration, eyed the herb she had placed before him and curled his lip with distaste. “Don’t waste your supply on me” he said scathingly, but she was already walking away. He watched her go, and then collapsed on the earth, shaking with the excursion of holding himself up, and keeping what he could of the pain from his face. ”Dammit!” he snarled bitterly. Why not push everyone away? Why settle for just Zee, when he could alienate all that he loved! "Speech"